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<title>Fainting Lady Chair Stage Right by KuramaAyako</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748002">Fainting Lady Chair Stage Right</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuramaAyako/pseuds/KuramaAyako'>KuramaAyako</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Flight Rising, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drama, Horror, Mild Gore, Monologue, Other, Psychological Drama, Shakespearean Language, Uncanny Valley, subtle horror, vaudeville</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 09:53:34</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>755</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuramaAyako/pseuds/KuramaAyako</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Classic Vaudeville literature.<br/>This series consists of one-shots from classic Vaudevillian genres.</p><p>NO FANDOM IS SAFE!!!</p><p>The tags will forever be growing~</p><p>This is a series just for fun it will be updated whenever I think of something new</p>
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</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Remains</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Pizza Delivery to a warehouse.</p><p>Uncanny Valley, subtle horror</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The seemingly abandoned warehouse came into view as Ned pulled up to the gate. The large sign glowed dimly against the fading twilight flickering silently illuminating the words on its face. ‘Remains Clothing Recycle Center’, one of the weirder addresses he’s had to deliver to that week, but not the worst. He exited the car and grabbed the Pizza from the passenger seat before walking up to the gate. He looked for some sort of call box to notify that he had arrived. No call box to be seen, but a large button above a keypad seemed like his best bet. Pressing the button gave an echoing buzz throughout the fenced-in area. It sounded for a moment before the noise slowly faded back into silence, leaving Ned silently waiting for some sort of entry.</p><p>A slow hum began as the large gate screeched open, leaving an unsettling knot to form in his stomach. Biting back his nerves he stepped passed the gate and up to a large metal security door hoping this was the correct drop off point. He didn’t want to wander around in the growing darkness. Giving two harsh knocks, he tightly gripped the handle of his delivery pouch waiting and hoping for someone to greet him quickly. His prayers were answered as the heavy door ground open revealing a very short woman with splotchy make-up and a messy wig that ever so slightly slid to one side of her head.</p><p>“Pizza delivery…” Ned said holding up the pouch. “I believe you ordered two large Mushroom Bacon Pizzas?”</p><p>The woman looked to the pouch and cracked a forced smile, but the strain only gave it a sinister air. “Yes that’s right...how much was it again?” The voice was much higher than he expected, with a strange accent that left a buzzing in his head. </p><p>“$25.35,” He choked trying to calm the still growing anxiety.</p><p>“Wonderful, one moment please,” The woman said turning to grab what Ned could only hope was her wallet, but as she turned back with money in hand he silently thanked whatever god was listening. “Here you go,” she said handing over two well worn 20 dollar bills.</p><p>“Ah...um…” he stammered ready to scramble for his change pouch but was quickly halted by a wave of her hand.</p><p>“Just keep it...food please…” She said reaching out her arms to receive the boxes. Her hands were small and gloved. Some of the fingers looked unfilled while others looked stuffed and hung limply. His hesitation didn’t go unnoticed. “Did I not give enough?”</p><p>“No...no...it’s just…” He pulled the pizza’s out of the pouch and handed them over just as one of her eyes seemed to droop downwards leaving purple to peek from under the white. A quick flurry of blinks seemed to push it back in to place but still left Ned unnerved. “So uh...this is a clothing recycle center?” He asked hoping to take his mind away from what he just saw.</p><p>The woman was checking the boxes before looking up realizing he was talking to her. “What...oh yes...clothes...we take clothes...and shoes...and...blankets...drapes...anything fabric really…” She paused but quickly began talking again. “And pillows....we like lots of pillows. Do you have any pillows?”</p><p>Struck speechless Ned took a step back looking around at the building. It was a normal warehouse, and the sign still glowed dimly. “Not...with me…” He stammered as the knot in his stomach grew into a massive weight.</p><p>“Ah...alright then...thank you for the food.” The woman said setting the boxes down before shutting the door, leaving the man standing in silence.</p><p>He walked back to his car and rubbed his face. “I need a new job. Maybe I should just become a plumber.”</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Plague Dragon’s Plush Fantasy</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A Shakespearian monolog of Flight Rising Plague Dragon</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings:<br/>-Minor Gore Description</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
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  <h2>
    <em>What beest this? Such softness, such a crisp scent. This can’t beest what those gents sayeth tis.</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>Such cleanliness and purity of an unmarked whey-face fabric wrapped a gentle yet plush textile. Tis not filled with fungus, tis not filled flesh, tis not stained and laden with the entrails that I’ve known softness to beest.</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>Tis surpassing everything I have known about comfort, but what is this creation? A product of the Arcane, peradventure an artifact of the Shadow?</em><br/>
<br/>
<em>I doth not knoweth its origins, nor its true purpose, but t beckons to cradle mine headeth as I falleth prey to mine fatigue. A few moments is all I asketh, please just alloweth me rest mine headeth.</em>
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</h2>
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